on the grasslands they graze.
Sinking into the flood,
the one of which they once fled.
Their territory murdered,
and scattered throughout the land.
Making it hard for the mothers,
hard for them to take the hands
of the little ones drowning,
drowning in their own blood.
The hearts of the old beating faster then ever,
and the beautiful ones no longer held that glamour,
no longer held their stride.
Those who were worthy were killed,
those who were less fortunate were raped,
and ripped from the inside out,
blood from their stomach, spilling out,
soaking the ground, leaving the dry grass red.
The wolves chewed on the intestines,
tugging on them like rope,
tearing them apart like paper,
leaving puddles of blood on each others backs.
Yelps and growls sounded all around
and yet the noise could not be heard.
The old hearts no longer had a beat,
the young were too tattered,
the beautiful were gutted and pillaged,
and the world looked on with hope,
saying those words that were heard forever,
saying those words that will never be forgotten.
And I can see them now,
roaming around,
waiting for it to happen again.
wow...
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